


Intervention: Stop Stiles and Derek from actually ruining our lives

by LittleDropsOfImagination



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Angst, F/M, Hate Sex, Hate to Love, M/M, Prank Wars, Roommates, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-04 03:26:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13355517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleDropsOfImagination/pseuds/LittleDropsOfImagination
Summary: Stiles and Derek have been at each others throats since the moment they met, but one prank too many lands them in trouble. The frat is sick and tired of getting caught in the crossfire of their petty prank war and decide an intervention is in order.The order is clear. Get on as roommates or get out of Alpha Kappa. No more second chances, no compromise.No chance.





	1. The Key to Pissing Everybody Off

Stiles was startled awake by the sound of yelling from downstairs. The sudden panicked thumping in his chest matched his pounding headache and he let out a world weary groan. Scott, still trying his best to sleep through the noise, covered his head with a pillow and rolled to face the wall. Stiles was just contemplating an attempt to do the same when he heard the unmistakable sound of Derek Hale.

  
“Stiles Stilinski!”

  
Scott groaned, recognising how slim his chances of a good lie in were becoming as footsteps thundered up the stairs and sat upright, blanket wrapped tightly around him. He watched Stiles flail out from under his sheets, desperately searching the room for a place to hide and immediately concluding that as hiding places went, his dorm room was not ideal. He briefly contemplated the window but winced at the memory of his sprained wrist from the last time he’d made that mistake. Scott had developed a habit of painting the cast in the night and there was no way he was spending another month with “sorry for my scent” sprawled on his arm. It really didn’t help his already dismal dating life.

  
“What did you do this time?” Scott hissed, expression completely unsympathetic as Stiles started squeezing his way into the overflowing closet. He tripped on a plaid shirt on his way in, knocking his head on the wall.

  
“Ow, Nothing! I swear it wasn’t even me this time- fuck theres so many shirts on the floor, why do we live like this?”

  
“Because you’re too busy pissing Derek off to ever tidy up after your- hello Derek, nice to see you” he greeted the boy as the door slammed open, the man in question snarling and gripping a scrap of paper, messy handwriting sprawled across it, tightly in hand. Stiles yelped and tried to pull the closet doors shut in a feeble attempt at defence.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing Stiles?”

  
The doors inches open and Stiles peered out, the picture of innocence. “Oh hello Derek I didn’t hear you come in, did you need something?” Derek started forwards and Stiles yelped again, fingers desperately trying to claw shut the doors.

  
“Where is my car Stiles? I have to leave for class in ten minutes I cannot be dealing with your bullshit today.”

  
Scott piped up, looking scandalised, “Stiles you took his car? What would your dad say?”

  
“You have absolutely no evidence that I did that”

  
“You left me a note you complete idiot.”

  
“Stiles” Scott groaned, grabbing for the note in exasperation. The writing was barely legible but the words “stupid Camaro” and “sweet sweet vengeance” said enough.

  
“He bribed the coffee vendors not to sell to me,” was Stiles’ muffled response, “I’ve had to wear a disguise for a week just to survive my 9am classes!” Derek yanked at the doors, grabbing at the shrieking boy inside. He wrestled him out by the waist, Scott sighing as he dodged Stiles’ flying legs.

  
“You deserved that.” Derek growled “My room still smells like suncream, it’s making Isaac sneeze constantly”

  
“Good. He laughed when you pushed me in the pool”

  
“Where is my car?”

  
Danny peered through the door, tiredly taking in the scene before him.

  
“Guys this is getting ridiculous.” The two ignored him in favour of continuing their wrestling match “You two don’t have to like each other but you’re literally driving the entire house up the wall at this point”

  
“He started it!” Stiles spat out, his face growing red in a headlock, Derek kicked him in retaliation. Stiles slapped in the direction of Derek’s face.

  
“It needs to stop." the dangerous tone to his voice was enough to halt their wrestling, Stiles still partially suspended off the floor in Derek's arms. Danny took a weary breath, "Stiles where is Derek’s car, the whole frat gets in trouble when people start missing classes. This is not just about you two idiots.”

  
Stiles finally shoved Derek off him and pelted to the other side of the room. He paused for a moment, seeming to weigh up his options then sighed with sagging shoulders. “I don’t actually know” he grumbled.

  
“Bullshit” Derek snapped “this has you written all over it. Literally, you signed the note.”

  
Stiles just rolled his eyes. “Yeah it was me in a larger sense, but I don’t actually know where it is, I swear.” Danny narrowed his eyes at him, “I may have gotten a tiny bit drunk last night and, you know, paid Greenberg to drive it until it ran out of gas”

  
“For fucks sake Stiles” Danny rubbed his face.

  
“How did you even get my keys?” Derek looked appalled, clearly uncomfortable with the thought of Greenberg anywhere near his Camaro.

  
“You sleep like the dead man it would have been more surprising if you noticed me shoving a live bear into your room at night.”

  
Derek pulled at his hair in frustration. “I’m going to be late you absolute-“

  
“Nope,” Danny interrupted “Stiles you can drive Derek to his class. You’re both on laundry duty for a week- don’t think I don’t remember your part in this Derek, the downstairs toilet door is still sticking.” Derek at least had the decency to look vaguely ashamed at that. “We’re having a house meeting tonight. You two are going to sort your act out before this gets any more wildly out of hand than it already is. Understood?” He looked between the two scowling boys, eyebrows raised and they both slowly nodded. “Good.” He said and left the room.

  
No one said anything as Stiles threw on a pair of basketball shorts and a hoodie, Scott took the liberty to climb back into bed and Derek stood brooding in the doorway, arms crossed. Stiles grabbed his keys and pushed past him into the corridor with only the slightest of smirks when their shoulders collided. The smirk was wiped off quickly as they descended the staircase, the banister of which held a slight green tint from a misguided attempt by the frat to spruce the house up for Saint Patrick’s day, when he saw Jackson sniggering from the couch, entirely delighted to see his two least favourite housemates miserable.

  
“Is mommy dropping you off at school Hale? How adorable.” He yelled gleefully, not even bothering to dodge the cushion Derek flung at him as he passed a couch. “Stilinski, control your child” he called after them.

  
Derek did not slam the front door behind him, much as the show of maturity pained him.

  
There was only a small squabble about muddy shoes in the jeep (“that is no way to treat a man’s car Hale” “If you’re being genuinely serious right now when my car is MIA-“ “oh my god you cannot let anything go”) before Stiles managed to bring the car, shuddering and heaving as it was, to life. He pointedly ignored the horrified expression on Derek’s face at the sounds being produced by the car. It was freezing out and Stiles had a moment of regret that he hadn’t thought to wear gloves, or a hat, or a scarf… or for that matter an arctic coat. Preferably anything more substantial than the shorts he was currently turning blue in at this moment.

  
He made a vain attempt to turn on the heating and was completely unsurprised when all that he got was a blast of cold wind to the face. Derek snapped the “heating” back off before Stiles had managed to blink the dryness from his eyes and just stared at him, completely enraged.

  
“Your car is a hunk of shit.” He said, in what was almost a tone of amazement, or it would have been were it not coloured with complete and utter annoyance.

  
“Yeah well so is the government.” Derek now looked even more annoyed.

  
“Completely irrelevant.” He muttered but let the conversation die out for the sake of his health. He began picking at a loose thread forming at the rip in his jeans, desperately trying to ignore what he was pretty sure was duct tape keeping the door handle on his side held on. They only lasted about a minute with the car wheezing along down the icy road before they were bickering again.

  
“-completely childish thing to do. I swear to god if my car is damaged in any way then I am going to use your balls as decorations”

  
“ I don’t know how you can accuse anyone of being childish after some of the stuff you’ve pulled dude. I’ll make sure your car comes back good as new, Greenberg’s probably still with it anyway, he’s not clever enough to have thought of a way back when the tank gave out- he’s probably been stuck in the car all night”

  
“Great, I’ve always wanted the car to smell like Axe body spray” He was silent for a moment, teeth grinding together. “You know I’m gonna get you back for this, right?”  
Stiles just snorted and turned the car sharply, flinging Derek uncomfortably against the duct tape door handle. “We’re here” he smiled sweetly. Derek paused for a moment in thought and before Stiles even had time to think to himself that he should probably find that suspicious, Derek had leaned across him and snatched the keys out of the ignition. He twirled them round his finger smugly and was out of the door.

  
“See you later Stiles.” He called over his shoulder.

  
Stiles only sulked in his car for about ten minutes, twenty tops.

  
He had just made up his mind to text Scott to come keep him company when a well manicured hand yanked open his (unfortunately unlocked) car door. He yelled and attempted to crawl away from the intruder, his seatbelt restricting the escape somewhat. Lydia stood at the door, unimpressed.

  
“Oh hello Lydia I didn’t realise it was you and not an axe wielding maniac.” He paused, gauging her expression “although on second thought no I think I may have preferred the axe maniac.”

  
“Greenberg is my partner for the group project in Chemistry today Stiles. Do you happen to have any idea where he might be?” He voice was calm but the look in her eyes had him paling.

  
“Ah see that’s a funny story Lydia-“

  
“Don’t try it Stilinski “

  
“No you’re absolutely right it was entirely my fault.”

  
“Two weeks. Vanilla latte- my room 9am.”

  
Stiles winced, “I can’t buy coffee Lyds, Derek-“

  
“9am Stilinski.”

  
Stiles gulped. “You got it. I’ll be at your door with caffeine and a terrible joke-“

  
“No jokes.”

  
“Fair.”

  
She left with a nod, satisfied and he fell back into his chair in relief. He was going to have to drive off campus and buy overpriced chain coffee because of stupid Derek. He couldn’t even pinpoint the moment that Derek had become the biggest nuisance in his general existence, at this point it just seemed like he had always been there, driving Stiles insane.

  
He was one of the first people Stiles met when he got to college and they had butted heads almost immediately. Scott had dragged Stiles to the rush night for the campus fraternities in an effort to expand their circle of friends beyond being literally just the two of them. Stiles got it, he was kind of ready for some new friends too, (especially if they’d be willing to play mario-kart with him, something Scott refused to do following the rainbow road incident of 08). So they got steaming drunk and headed out to the frat rush.

  
Upon reflection, maybe downing three jäger bombs and grabbing a whole bottle of wine to chug on their way to the party was a miscalculation. Scott was better at looking like he wasn’t watching the room spin in an alarming way. Stiles, not so much.

  
He was in the process of dancing wildly in the living room with a bunch of strangers, Scott at the drinks table chatting to a darker haired girl who looked equally adorable and excited. Stiles had only given a seconds thought to the fact that the pair had looked like a pair of puppies before he’d left them to their own devices. Hence, the dance floor.  
Now Stiles would never claim to be a conventionally skilled dancer, there were far too many flailing limbs and extreme hip wiggling for him to try and fool anyone into thinking that. But it was his style and frankly it worked for him, most of the time. Perhaps not, he thought as he crashed into what seemed to be the human equivalent of a brick wall, in this particular moment.

  
Slowly he craned his head up and locked eyes with one of the most beautiful and angry men he’d ever seen in his life. Dark eyebrows were pulled together in a deep scowl and Stiles found himself being pushed back to arms length before he’d even taken the spectacle in.

  
“Watch where you’re going.” The man grumbled and Stiles couldn’t help but laugh at how irreconcilably grumpy he was. Naturally, the man’s expression grew stormier at that which made Stiles laugh even harder.

  
“Sorry man,” He wheezed, swaying back on his feet “You just look like the angriest goddamn bunny I’ve ever seen in my life.” This was clearly the wrong thing to say and the mans grip on his shoulders, which Stiles hadn’t noticed was still holding him up, even as he was dangerously swaying, loosened. He had a bizarre expression on his face that Stiles really couldn’t read and he opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by Stiles smooshing his cheeks together as though he were a baby.

  
He had a moment of clarity where he watched himself doing this to a much larger, more muscled and angrier man and was unable to stop it from happening, the next moment he was running, the other man yelling after him to stop.

  
Miraculously, both he and Scott received pledge offers after that night, Kira- the girl Scott had been making heart eyes at was good friends with the then head of the Alpha kappa frat and had put in a good word for them. They’d been pretty pumped about it and had shown up, raring and willing to start rushing at the house when Stiles was smacked in the face with a memory of his own complete drunken idiocy because who of all people should happen to be there, waiting to rush for the same frat but the angry eyebrowed bunny man himself.

  
Scott made a confused noise as Stiles ducked behind him and then whipped his head around to look at the man when Stiles hissed “that’s the guy who hates me”. Scott, ever the faithful friend scowled at the man, who of course was watching this all unfold sceptically, clearly fully able to see Stiles. His gaze was pulled by Boyd, a quiet boy that both Scott and Stiles had met early on in the party, pre-life altering drunken mistakes.

  
“Derek!” He called, grinning at the muscled man “Glad you came, you know any of the pledges?” Derek threw a glance over his shoulder, taking in Stiles’ still desperate efforts to disguise himself in the room.

  
“No.” He replied shortly.

  
From that point the animosity never really went away. At first it was little things, sniping comments between the pair as whenever they were near eachother at one of the frat events. Derek developed a habit of pushing into Stiles whenever he had a drink in his hand so that he’d spill it. Stiles liked to stick his feet on any chair Derek might want to sit on. Derek would respond by sitting on Stiles’ legs for the entire evening, completely refusing to talk to him.

  
They didn’t like eachother, that was obvious, but it wasn’t really an issue. Most people didn’t like Jackson but it didn’t cause too much drama so they let it go.

 

Naturally, things escalated as soon as they moved into the frat house in their second year.

  
Danny had roomed them as far away from eachother in the house as was humanely possible, leaving Scott and Stiles with the unfortunate task of having to trudge up four sets of stairs to get to their room. Stiles didn’t mind so much, they had a skylight he could look up at and he didn’t have to spend any unnecessary time in conflict with grumpy leather addicts.

  
The issue was that, whilst Danny had been thoughtful in allocating their rooms in the house, he hadn’t quite anticipated there being any conflict with kitchen cupboard space. Derek and Stiles had been the last two to move in- Derek had been away for the whole summer on some adventure vacation across Prague with his family and Stiles had been raking in as many hours as he could working reception at the precinct back home while Gemma (the heavily pregnant secretary) was on leave. As a consequence everyone had claimed their cupboards, avoiding the awkward corner ones in favour of the bigger, and far more convenient spaces.

  
It wouldn’t have been an issue between any two normal people but, with Derek and Stiles bickering over the other being in the way early in the mornings, it soon devolved into the ridiculous. Derek would smack Stiles with his cupboard door while he was busy grabbing his own breakfast and Stiles would retaliate by stealing his milk. The rest of the house would tiredly stay out of it, watching with increasing anticipation for the situation to get worse. They had to scurry out of Derek’s warpath numerous times, the most memorable of which saw him upturning an entire box of cereal over Stiles’ freshly washed and styled hair.

  
That had been the start of the pranks. Stiles spent the entire day bitching to Scott and flicking rice crispies, which he kept somehow finding on his person, even after a second shower and a change of clothes, and bought five tubes of super glue from the hardware store.

  
The fury on Derek’s face the next day when he couldn’t move a single one of his possessions in his room was well worth the stray cereal he found in his underwear. He’d laughed so hard that he thought he might need an inhaler and Derek had tried to tear him limb from limb.

  
Stiles woke up the next day covered in glitter.

  
Initially Scott had been supportive of the vendetta against Derek, but he didn’t hold a grudge quite as well as Stiles did and after a while he lost the enthusiasm that Stiles clearly had for the process. It was around the third time they’d had to sleep in the hall because of a stink bomb being set off in their room that he started to look more fed up with the pranking than he did amused. Stiles persevered however, because he was 90% certain that he’d never hated anyone as much as he hated Derek Hale.

  
So the house watched them cover each other in glitter, hair removal cream, some mystery gloop that Stiles had somehow managed to concoct, scare eachother in the night with hidden speakers, hockey masks, cardboard cutouts and the like. Stiles had, for some unknowable reason, covered every surface in Derek and Isaac’s room with suncream (factor 30) and replaced all of Derek’s food with graham crackers. When asked about the motivation behind that later he would simply shrug and blame a particularly potent bottle of wine.

  
They watched them perform stupid prank after stupid prank again and again and heard them scream and chase after eachother up to the point where Derek came storming up the stairs because his car was missing and they had had enough. They had lost too much sleep, stepped in too many weird substances and smelt too many things that they never wanted to smell again for comfort.

  
Stiles had been sat in his unlocked car for about an hour and a half (Scott refused to come and keep him company on account of him waking him up too early) when a familiar sleek black car pulled up beside him. He looked across to recognise the familiar, tired out face of Greenberg who definitely looked like a man who’d spent the night in a car and woken up to a scolding from both Danny and Lydia. He dropped the key in through the crack in Stiles’ window wordlessly, hiked his backpack onto his shoulder and headed to the bus stop.

  
Not long after that Derek returned to the car park, noticing his Camaro with a relieved expression.

  
Stiles stepped out of the jeep, hands in the air, with one clutching Derek’s car keys.

  
“Easy now, you give me mine and I’ll give you yours, no one needs to get hurt here.” Derek just rolled his eyes, shoving Stiles’ keys into his hands and grabbing his own. Stiles didn’t stick around to watch him inspect the car, he peeled out of the parking lot and headed home, ready to finally get some sleep.

  
It became immediately apparent that this was not something that was going to happen.

  
The living room had been rearranged so that all the chairs in the room bar two were facing in the same direction and they were currently occupied by the entire house. Stiles stilled in the doorway, instantly understanding what was going on.

  
“Take a seat Stiles” Danny said, gesturing to one of the two seats that were facing the group. Jackson looked positively gleeful and Scott sat behind him, at least having the decency to look mildly guilty. Stiles slowly sat in the seat nearest the door and they all stilled as they heard the sound of a car engine cutting off outside the house. Danny clicked a presentation onto the screen behind him.

  
Stiles tended but didn’t turn as he heard Derek enter the house and his footsteps stop as he took in the sight, Danny waved him in and he took the seat a couple of feet away from Stiles. They both looked at the screen in silence.

  
**Intervention: Stop Stiles and Derek from actually ruining our lives**

  
Derek scowled as he read the screen and Stiles sunk a little lower in his chair. Danny raised an eyebrow at the pair and began to speak, “You both know exactly why we’re getting pissed off here so there’s no point looking hard done by. You don’t like eachother. We get it. I thought that maybe just keeping you two apart would be enough to sort the problem out but you’ve both decided not to behave like adults. Now I’m not giving you the courtesy of not liking eachother. If you’re going to be babies I’m going to treat you like babies.” He paused and Stiles felt his heart sink, this was going nowhere good, “You’ll learn to like eachother or you’ll have to leave alpha kappa, you’ve used up all 700 of your last chances. Make no mistake you’re both being punished and I don’t care if you don’t like it. Scott, you’re moving in with Isaac, Stiles, Derek I hope you can learn to be in the same room without tearing eachother apart, you’re roommates now, congratulations.”

  
Both Stiles and Derek started to argue but Danny shut them up with a look. Stiles cast a pleading look towards Scott but only found sympathetic resignation. Derek ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

  
This was gonna suck.

  
Stiles almost teared up as he watched Scott take down the fairy light penis he’d created on the wall next to his bed. He hadn’t bothered to pack his stuff properly, preferring to bundle it up in loads and carry it down the stairs to his new room, something that would have taken half the time if Stiles wasn’t refusing to help. As it was he was lying on his bed and letting out low moans at regular intervals.

  
“It cannot end up being that bad” Scott said as he wound the fairy lights, still lit around his left arm. They were the last thing he had left in the room (if you didn’t count the clothes that Stiles had surreptitiously incorporated into his own wardrobe early on into their shared residence). “Maybe you’ll be friends by the end of it all!” His tone was cheery and that only made the horrified look that Stiles cast his way that more incredulous.

  
“I’ll be murdered by the end of it all I think you mean” He wailed, “he’s had it out for me since the moment he laid eyes on me and now I’m gonna be strangled to death in my sleep.” He let out another groan, this one even louder than the others and rolled to face his pillow. “Just leave,” he said, voice muffled “leave me here with the harbinger of doom”. When he wasn’t met with a response he looked up and found that Scott was already gone. He flailed a little in indignation then slumped back onto his front, pulling his blanket over his shoulder and facing the wall.

  
He heard Derek arrive in the room but refused to turn to acknowledge him. Derek was silent too as he made three or four trips up and down the stairs to bring his belongings up. The only sound in the room was their breathing and the general noise of unpacking and arranging, deafeningly loud in the absence of all other sound. Derek went for a shower, seemingly done with his relocation efforts and Stiles drifted off to sleep in his absence.

  
When Derek came back he blinked at the sleeping boy. The image seemed odd to him, as the thought occurred that he’d never actually seen Stiles asleep before. It was odd to see him peaceful, to not be anticipating some kind of insult or irritation to spill out of him. His stomach clenched uncomfortably and he shook his head, climbing into his own, new bed. Some things were best not to think about.


	2. No Classes on a Wednesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day one of the Derek/Stiles roommate experiment. How bad can it be? It’s not like they’ll get into an honest to god wrestling match... right?

Stiles woke up the next morning with a sense of peace and tranquility which lasted all of three seconds when he turned to face Scott and was met with tall dark and broody instead. Derek was still fast asleep and it took everything in him, including Danny’s strongly worded warning from the night before to stop him from using this as an opportunity to make his life miserable. He sighed and slowly sat up in his bed, stretching out his back and thinking bitterly about how unfair the whole situation was. Sure he and Derek didn’t get on but there’s no way forcing them to spend time together was any way to fix that. He shoved a jumper over his head and let sleeping wolves lie in favour of trudging down for his breakfast.

Scott was already there chomping away happily and chatting to Isaac and Stiles couldn’t help the bitter look he threw their way, sloshing coffee liberally into his mug and sliding a chair between them. Scott grinned around his spoon.

“How’s your new roomie treating you?” He snarked and Stiles grunted in response, sipping at his drink.

Slowly the house trudged in, sleep mussed and tired, Stiles sighed when Danny gestured for him to follow him to chat with a yawn and shuffled out after him, his seat immediately claimed by an irritatingly chipper Boyd. Danny led Stiles to his room, shutting the door behind him and snorting when Stiles immediately splayed out over his bed.

“Just wanted to clear the air with you” he said, crawling onto the small patch of bed that didn’t have Stiles’ gangly limbs stretched across. “I’m head of house and you know how much of a nightmare the two of you have been. Sorry this is what it’s come to but also it’s entirely your fault.”

“Yeah yeah” Stiles grumbled, sitting up to glug the last dreg of coffee from his mug then placing it on the floor, “I get it and I’m not holding it against you, the house would have said something if they didn’t think it was entirely fair. Well not Jackson but he’s a douche”

Danny rolled his eyes, “and it’s not gonna cause us any issues?” He asked, eyes locking with Stiles’.   
Stiles gave him a lopsided grin and leant in closer, peering up at him through his eyelashes, “It’s not gonna cause us any issues” he muttered and let their lips meet. They kissed leisurely, Stiles reluctant to spend any more time in the communal area, where Derek was bound to show up, than absolutely necessary.

He and Danny had started fooling around at the end of Stiles’ first year in college. One drunken night at a party had led to another and whilst the pair couldn’t really see a solid relationship together, the sex was too good to just let go. It didn’t hurt that as head of the frat, Danny got his own room with a double bed this year.

Danny pulled back with a look of regret, “If we don’t head back to the others now I’m not gonna make it to my morning lecture” he said, hand still playing with the mess of hair on Stiles’ head. “Trust me, I’d much rather stay here than deal with Harris in the early hours”

Stiles pouted and dove forwards to catch another kiss, this time nipping at the other boy’s lip and conjuring a low moan from him. Danny pulled back though and looked at him scoldingly.

“Kitchen Stiles. Now.”

Stiles rolled his eyes in response, “Yeah, yeah”

The pair returned to the kitchen, hair somehow even more of a mess than it had been when they woke up and Stiles leisurely made them each another coffee. Derek, who had slumped down at some point while they were gone, eyed his movement around the kitchen with distaste and Stiles felt a twinge of annoyance. His and Danny’s relationship was something that was acknowledged but went undiscussed in the frat, people knew they fucked every so often and no one really seemed to mind all that much, Jackson liked to make snide remarks from time to time but that was to be expected really. But it irked Derek far more noticeably than anyone else.

Stiles remembered the party where they’d first hooked up. Stiles hadn’t even entertained the idea that he might not be straight before that night, he was so busy lusting after Lydia, one of Kira’s beautiful and intimidatingly intelligent friends. She was on the dance floor with Jackson for the whole night, the pair completely wrapped up with one another and Stiles had found himself not entirely upset about it. He’d watched them dance for a while then shrugged, heading out to the garden to fix himself a drink. He remembered chatting to Scott, beer in hand as they dangled their bare feet in the pool when he caught sight of Danny across the garden looking at him in a way that he found… interesting.

Scott had headed off to rescue Kira from herself when they heard her loudly proclaim that she was going to do a keg stand and Stiles had stayed where he was, finishing off his beer. He caught Danny’s eye again and cocked his head, the alcohol spurring him on. He watched as the other boy raised his eyebrow in response, considering then excused himself from where he was chatting to Boyd and Isaac to grab two beers and head over to join Stiles.

“Stilinski,” He said, a playful tone colouring his greeting.

“I like your shirt.” Was Stiles’ involuntary response, eyes taking in the tight blue button up before he could consider that it was something rude to do. Danny grinned in response, handing him a beer and sitting down cross legged beside him. Stiles sat kicking his legs in the water, watching the ripples it made in the otherwise smooth surface. “You not here with Ethan?” He asked, eyes still on the water and he felt rather than saw Danny turn to look at him.

“Nah,” was his response, “we broke up.” Stiles turned to look at him, their faces startlingly close and cocked up a corner of his mouth. The thought that hey, he might be attracted to Danny had only just rushed across his mind when he felt his mouth begin to speak.

“Good.” He said, almost involuntary, Danny’s eyebrows climbing his forehead in what was thankfully amusement. “Lets go for a swim.” He let the words settle between them for a few seconds before he leaned back and began to unbutton his own shirt. Danny watched, his expression increasingly going from mild amusement to something a little more alike hunger. Stiles was starting to unbuckle his belt before he moved to start undoing his shirt. Stiles let out a low whistle.

“The shirt was good man but it is sinful to hide a chest like that from the world.” He said, shoving his pants down his legs and straightening up, now just in his underwear. The pair were starting to get odd looks from the rest of the people in the garden. Danny ignored them and pulled off his own trousers. Stiles moved in closer, still sporting that infuriating half grin. Danny though for half a second that they might kiss but instead felt broad hands sketching across his pecs. He had a moments realisation of what was about to happen and grabbed at Stiles’ arm just as the boy pushed him into the pool, dragging him down with him.

They splashed around, desperately trying to soak one another and Stiles jumped towards Danny in a last ditch effort to run his sopping hands through his hair. Danny just caught him around the waist, revelling in the surprised “ oof” from Stiles as he did so. They locked eyes and before Danny could think back to all the ways that Stiles usually annoyed him, he leant in and captured his lips, kissing him with a low hunger he hadn’t realised he’d been holding within him. Stiles had groaned against his lips, legs wrapping around the other boy, and then again when Danny’s hand moved under his butt to better support him.

Wolf whistling caused them to break apart, their ears turning red as they remembered that they were in fact in public and Danny slowly lowered Stiles to his feet, a small shy smile on his face which Stiles was happy to return. The older boy cocked his head towards the door back into the house and Stiles didn’t need to be asked twice. He scrambled out of the pool and grabbed his clothes, letting Danny pull his arm lightly in through the door and up the stairs to what was his, then bedroom.

Stiles remembered running his tongue along his kiss swollen bottom lip, dressed only in his sodden trousers, shirt in hand as he followed Danny through the living room and making eye contact with Derek who looked beyond sickened by the sight of the two boys together. Stiles threw him a glare as they whipped past, completely unwilling to let him ruin what was about to be the best sex of his life if how turned on he’d been in the pool was anything to go by.

Maybe he didn’t like the sight of Stiles and another boy. Maybe he just didn’t like the sight of Stiles with anyone. Maybe he thought Stiles wasn’t good enough for Danny, hell there was no maybe about it, the dude hated him. Stiles narrowed his eyes at him in the kitchen, all these months later as a sly thought occurred.

Slowly he moved his hand to Danny’s waist, the pair of them leaning against the counter as they listened to the morning conversation. Danny glanced at him to flash a small smile and then turned his attention away again and Stiles settled with his leg crooked against the cupboard. He turned to look back at Derek who was eyeing this exchange with a sour look clouding his expression. Stiles crowed a silent victory and cocked his eyebrow in response. Sure he couldn’t prank Derek anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t wind him up in a litany or other ways. And if Stiles and Danny still wound him up after all of this time, well Stiles was more than happy to plaster himself up against him.

Derek didn’t stick around for long after he finished his breakfast. He bunged his dish into the washer and stormed off upstairs to throw on his running gear. Stiles watched him go smugly, tilting his head in a challenge when he caught his eye midway through the door. Danny sighed and nudged Stiles’ shoulder with his own, catching the boy’s attention.

“I’ve gotta go,” He said and Stiles modded, squeezing the other boy’s waist before moving his arm back, “it’s movie night later but if you wanna hook up afterwards?” He let the question tail off, eyes lingering on Stiles’ lips and the other boy grinned.

“Definitely.” He said, leaning forwards and pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. Danny nodded at him and went to grab his bag, Stiles watching him leave happily. He turned back to the kitchen to find Scott and Isaac staring at him shrewdly.

“What?” He asked, a little intimidated by their joint gaze.

Scott looked like he was choosing his words carefully. “You two looked… coupley.” He said, looking to Isaac for confirmation. The other boy nodded in agreement. Stiles snorted at the pair, confused.

“What do you mean? You know we hook up sometimes it’s hardly big news.” Was his, slightly hysterical response and Scott began to look uncomfortable. It was Isaac that responded however,

“Yeah anyone who’s ever been in a room with the two of you and the tiniest bit of alcohol is aware of the fact that you want to bone eachother. It’s more that you’re acting like you’ve actually started dating or something.” Stiles made a choked off sound, unsure of what to say, that wasn’t what their relationship was, was it? Sure he liked Danny but as like a friend, a close friend definitely, one he wanted to do dirty dirty things to 80% of the time but still just in a friendly way. As friends.

“I know what you’re like with relationships Stiles” Scott was saying over his internal panicking, “you’re not exactly great at commitment.” Stiles couldn’t argue with that, his history of flings and short fiery relationships spoke for itself. “But Danny is kind of, a long term mega romance kind of guy, you know? He was with Ethan for like two years and with Simon for four before him, and-

“Make sure you know what you both want out of this Stiles” Isaac interrupted, unwilling to sit through the entire history of Danny’s love life. “Do not fuck over the nicest guy in the house.”

Stiles reeled a little at that, he’d never really considered himself capable of being able to fuck someone over but the more he thought about it, he and Danny were an odd match to have made. He sighed, resigned, “I’ll talk to him tonight.” Only marginally comforted by the twin supportive expressions on his friends faces.

He didn’t have class on a Wednesday which technically meant that he should be using the time to do his tutorial prep but actually meant that he had the free time to sit and binge Netflix shows from the warmth of his bed. He was halfway through his second episode of the good wife when the door pushed open and a sweaty and out of breath Derek Hale emerged, clearly only just back from his run. He stopped when he saw Stiles, a strange expression crossing his face at the sight of the man tucked up to his shoulders under a blanket with his old, beaten up laptop balanced precariously on his chest, just inches from his face. Stiles stared back, the sounds of a courtroom drifting from the speakers all the while.

“I was running.” Derek said suddenly, looking as surprised as Stiles that that was what had happened to fall out of his mouth. Stiles looked at him incredulously.

“Yeah I can see that Forest.” He snarked, grudgingly pulling his arm out from the cozy blanket cocoon to pause the show, “What are you still doing at the house don’t you have classes?”

Derek scowled back at him, shucking his sweaty running shirt and searching through his drawers (far neater than Stiles’) for his wash bag. “I don’t have classes on a Wednesday.” He responded.

“I don’t have Wednesday classes either” he grumbled “I was looking forward to the time apart”

“I already knew you didn’t have classes today” Derek grumbled, looking around for his towel, Stiles could see it underneath the bed but was saying nothing.

“No you didn’t stop trying to be clever.”

“Stiles trust me when I say that it is immediately obvious if you are not in the house, the general sound of douchebaggery is startlingly absent.”

“Fuck you.” Stiles spat out, swinging his feet from the bed. Without a word he grabbed his towel from the floor and his wash bag then started to skip down the stairs towards the bathroom, a startled yell from Derek following him as he realised that he was fully intending to steal his time in the shower. Stiles was through the door, running the water and undressing before Derek could catch up with him.

He didn’t have quite enough time to lock the door however.

Derek burst in after him and Stiles squealed, clambering into the shower/bath combo and under the running water, still in his pants in his efforts to get away. Derek grabbed at his arm, tumbling into the bath, fully clothed when Stiles attempted to yank it back. He grabbed at his knees which sent Stiles tumbling face first over the top of him but only for a second before Derek had roughly rolled them over, pinning Stiles down in the bath as the water pounded against his back.

“Do you exist to be a perpetual pain in my ass?” He hissed at the smaller man and Stiles just gasped in response, completely out of breath and unsure about where to go from here. Derek froze at the sound, eyes locking with Stiles’ own and the pair didn’t move. Stiles watched rivulets of water collecting in Derek’s dark hair and counted the droplets that had caught on his eyelashes breathlessly. He licked his lips, collecting the water that had landed there with his tongue and Derek’s eyes followed the movement. Stiles felt his stomach twinge

Suddenly Derek was up off him and storming out of the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him as he went. Stiles stared after him, completely unsure of what had just happened. 


	3. Ignoring the Problem is a Perfectly Reasonable Tactic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles tries desperately to avoid the problem at hand so naturally, everything just gets worse.

Stiles hung out in Danny’s room after his shower, reluctant to address the fact that him and Derek had had an honest to god wrestling match after ten minutes in a room together. Plus, there were so many old looking, leather bound books on Danny’s shelf that Stiles felt intimidated enough into starting his own work. He was five minutes into translating his copy of Ulysses from Latin before his mind started wandering. How the hell was he supposed to survive living with Derek when the tiniest of arguments immediately flew out of hand. There was just something about Derek that got him riled up and it didn’t matter what he said, as soon as the man opened his mouth he found himself contradicting it. And Derek did the exact same thing in response.

Stiles rubbed at his eyes and tried to get back to his work. It was probably exactly what Derek wanted for Stiles to sit and mull over what had happened that morning and he wasn’t going to play into his hands. Slowly, and miraculously he managed to drag his mind back to the academic and actually get his reading done with only two procrastination trips to make coffee. He was just reclining back in the desk chair in victory when Danny came back, doing a double take as he realised that someone else was in his room.

“Hey, Derek was driving me insane, didn’t think you’d mind if I hid out here.” He said sheepishly and Danny just rolled his eyes, whacking Stiles lightly round the head as he dumped his bag on his desk.

“You two are children, I swear.” He reclined back onto his bed with a sigh.

“Long day?” Stiles asked, he knew that Danny had a hectic Wednesday having somehow managed to schedule four lectures with only a half hour break in between. For a smart guy he really sucked at organisation.

“The worst. And the movie nights supposed to start in like forty minutes- I haven’t even gone to the store to buy snacks yet.” Stiles looked at the exhausted figure on the bed and took pity.

“I’ll go. Have a nap, I’ll wake you up when everyone starts settling in the living room.” The grateful look that Danny threw him was well worth the effort it was gonna take him to go to the store. One of the big advantages of the frat houses on the west campus was that they were much roomier but it came at the cost of being nowhere near a single store. Stiles had suffered through a lot of hangovers without fatty, salty snacks this year because of it. He rifled through Danny’s desk, knowing he kept a comprehensive list of What snack foods were acceptable after Jackson had been left in charge of the job one time and had come home with “healthy alternatives”.

Jackson wasn’t allowed to buy the snacks anymore.

He didn’t want to deal with any Derek interaction by going upstairs so he shoved on Danny’s bomber jacket, grinning cheekily at the boy himself when he raised an eyebrow in response. Danny just rolled his eyes and muttered “it looks good on you” before pulling his blankets up around him, the perfect picture of comfortable. Stiles practically cocked and had snapped a picture before Danny could stop him.

If he ignored the inconvenient amount of travelling required to the local store, Stiles actually loved grocery shopping. There was something therapeutic about the bright lights and disorganised aisles that just appealed to him. He was humming along, throwing bags of chips into his trolley when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He didn’t look at the caller ID before answering.

“Stiles Stilinski at your service” He chirruped, trying to decide whether to be the bigger man and get the fancy like chips that literally only Derek liked as a peace offering.

“You can’t send Scott to do your punishment coffee round” Lydia’s voice snapped down the phone and Stiles rolled his eyes, throwing the stupid chips in the trolley.

“I don’t have class on Wednesdays he said he’d whizz it by for me because I looked sad.” He responded, wheeling the kart towards the cashier.

“Yes I heard about that.”

“It’s so annoying” Stiles whined as he started to bag his things one handed, throwing an apologetic look towards the cashier who was waiting to put more things through. “I honestly don’t know what they expect to get out of this.”

“If you just behave Danny will probably let you switch back. Literally all you have to do is not fight with the man.” She made it sound so simple, Stiles rolled his eyes.

“I know that, I can’t help it if he’s a genuine psychopath. You coming to the film night? I bought you some of those strawberry chocolate things you like. They can be my apology for not actually doing the thing I was supposed to be doing to apologise.” He could practically hear Lydia’s huffy expression down the phone as he paid for the stuff and started to haul it back to the car.

“Rightfully so.” She snarked and he let out a chuckle, “I’ll be there, make sure Jackson saves me a seat.”

“Of course darling” Stiles chimes and hung up.

Danny still wasn’t about when he got back so, once he’d laid out the snacks and given Jackson a dutiful warning to save Lydia a seat or fear for his life, he went along the corridor next to the kitchen and knocked lightly on Danny’s door.

“Hey sleepy head, time for a film.” He said, voiced hushed as he pushed into the room. Danny blinked up at him from his blanket cocoon, bleary eyes and entirely unable to remember what day it was. Stiles couldn’t help but laugh at how sweet the sight was, he looked like some kind of woodland creature. Stiles tugged at the blankets surrounding Danny, ignoring the low moan that elicited from the boy and unceremoniously pulled him off the bed.

“If you bring your blankets we can cuddle on the couch but we’re gonna end up on the floor if you don’t hurry up” Stiles chastised and Danny reluctantly got up, still looking longingly towards his bed. Stiles just rolled his eyes and grabbed the fluffy comforter, herding the sleepy boy out of the room and in the direction of the living area. They were just in time as well, Stiles could hear footsteps coming down the stairs and he leapt onto the last available couch, dragging Danny with him who wasted no time in snuggling back under the blanket and leaning against Stiles until he was comfortable. Stiles looked up as Derek appeared in the doorway, meeting his eyes and then looking away, heat rising in his neck as he remembered their weird wrestling match that morning.

Derek looked equally uncomfortable and Jackson eyed the interaction from the couch opposite Stiles’, a shrewd expression on his face. Lydia and Kira arrived moments later though and he was distracted by the sight of his girlfriend, who daintily claimed the strawberry chocolates from the snack table and settled down beside him.

“Thanks for getting the snacks Stiles” she said, tucking in.

“Yeah thanks Stiles” muttered Danny, already halfway asleep again.

As Scott and Isaac started bickering over which movie to watch Stiles snuck another look at Derek who was now eyeing the table of food, a strange expression of confusion colouring his features. Stiles followed his eye-line and saw he was staring at the lime chips. The confusion from Derek only worked to anger Stiles because, hey he could be nice. He could be the bigger person sometimes. So when Derek met his eyes he turned away, chin up and refused to look at him again.

Stupid ungrateful Derek.

Finally they settled on a film and all fell silent, only the sounds of the film and the crunch of food filling the room. Danny fell asleep, nestled between Stiles’ legs, almost immediately and Stiles found himself stroking absent-mindedly through his hair, too engrossed in the film to notice. It was only when Scott coughed pointedly from the next sofa over that he tore his eyes away from the screen. Scott raised his eyebrows, tilting his head at the sleeping boy in Stiles’ arms and Stiles furrowed his eyebrows in response, trying to convey that, no that was not a relationship thing to be doing. Scott scoffed at him, gesturing to where his own hands were running through Kira’s hair as she rested against his legs on the floor.

Stiles was beyond frustrated and decided to go and get a drink rather than deal with any more silent arguing. He gently shimmied our from underneath Danny, tucking a cushion behind his head in his place and headed to the kitchen. The place was an absolute mess, he made a mental note to have Danny nag everyone into doing a deep clean and started rifling through the fridge in search of his beer. Jackson had a habit of rearranging stuff so Stiles was forever searching for whatever he’d put in their the day before. He’d just spotted what could possibly be the top of a beer bottle when he heard footsteps behind him. He spoke without bothering to turn to face him, desperately trying to balance the head of lettuce on something else so he could get to his beer.

“Stop nagging at me Scott I’m going to have a talk with him later.” The footsteps stopped and he grabbed the bottle victoriously, then swore as he heard about five things crash into the space he’d just created. “Besides,” He hissed, desperately trying to rearrange things so that he could get the door shut again, how was Jackson so good at that? “I genuinely think you’re making something out of nothing, we’re just fuck buddies.” Satisfied with his job he shoved the door shut, ignoring the ominous crunching sound the action created and turned to face… Derek?

The other man stood there, face expressionless and Stiles swallowed hard. “I uh, thought you were Scott” he offered and Derek just looked at him. Stiles shifted his weight between his feet, uncomfortable. “Did you want something?” He offered, twisting the bottle cap on and off again in his hand. Derek followed the movement.   
“You bought the chips I like” were the unexpected words from the mans mouth and Stiles almost dropped his beer in shock.

“Um, yeah.” He said for lack of anything else coming to mind in response. Derek continued to stare at him, saying nothing and Stiles felt his patience snap. “Did you want something? Or are you just going to stand and stare at me for the rest of the night?” Derek continued to glare, somehow looking even more infuriated.

“Why do you have to-“ he cut himself off, frustratedly running a hand through his hair. Stiles had absolutely no idea what was going on. Derek moved a step closer. “You were behaving like an asshole this morning” he muttered and the expression on Stiles’ face snapped from confused to furious in an instant.

“Oh fuck You.” He hissed, careful to keep his voice down lest any of the house hear him arguing with Derek literally one day into their probation. “I don’t know why I even bothered trying to extend the olive branch, you’re clearly too self absorbed in your own assholeness to act like a normal human bei-“ his words cut off as Derek shoved him into the fridge, pushing in close with clear anger in his eyes.

“Oh yeah?” He muttered, breath ghosting across Stiles’ ear, causing him to shudder involuntarily. The twisting feeling he’d felt this morning in his gut was back and he couldn’t seem to move of his own accord. He swallowed hard before replying,

“You’re a dick” the words were quiet but they rung in the room. Derek was right up in his face now and Stiles tried to stare him down silently. They were breathing heavily, neither seemed to be prepared to move. Stiles was all too conscious of every ounce of muscle leaning against him in that moment his eyes broke away from Derek’s for a moment to track the length of his arms before snapping back up to meet his gaze again. The twisting feeling in his stomach continued.

“You’re really pissing me off” Derek seemed to lean impossibly closer.

“Good.” Stiles spat back at him.

It was hard to say who initiated it, they were already so close to each other, but suddenly their mouths were crashing together in what was a bruising kiss. Derek ground his body into Stiles’ as the other boy sunk his fingers into his hair, tugging at the strands viciously. They broke apart for air and Derek dropped his face to Stiles’ neck, nipping and sucking at the skin there as Stiles panted out harsh breaths, entirely focused on the feeling of Derek’s dick grinding against his own, a frustrating amount of fabric separating them.

Derek hooked his hands under Stiles’ thighs, hefting him up onto the counter, still sucking and biting at his neck viciously. Stiles groaned, spreading his legs apart to let him in closer, arching his back upwards to rut against him. Derek finally moved away from his neck, licking at his ear lobe instead. Stiles groaned, hips stuttering on the brink of his orgasm, Derek growled in his ear and he was gone, head thrown back, eyes rolling. Derek took one look at his face, slack and cum drunk and he was right there with him, biting back into his shoulder and choking out a moan.

They stayed like that for a few moment, breathing heavily and coming down from their shared high before the reality of what had just happened set in.

Stiles had just rubbed off against Derek Hale in the kitchen.

He tensed up, pushing Derek up off him, wide eyed. Derek was staring at him with the same expression of complete shock on his face. Stiles slid off the counter and slipped out of the room, rushing to the bathroom to wash his face.

What the fuck had just happened?

He splashed his face with water and swore when he caught sight of his neck in the mirror. There was a hickey flaring red there, a bite mark clearly outlined against his skin.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck” he muttered and dashed up the stairs to grab a jumper. He rifled through his drawers (read: the clothes littered across his side of the room) for something, anything that could cover up the mess that was currently his neck. He dragged his red hoodie out from under the bed and threw it on. If he was careful and positioned it right, he could get away with that. He dashed back down to the kitchen and grabbed his beer. Derek wasn’t in the kitchen so Stiles could only assume he was back with the others in the living area. Stiles swore again, downing the rest of his beer.

He grasped blindly in the fridge for another one, ignoring the clattering noises it left behind and, taking another swing headed on back to the living area. The film was still going as he snuck back in, desperately ignoring the back of Derek’s head. Jackson watched him, eagle eyed from his place on the sofa whilst Stiles actively avoided making eye contact. Danny blinked up at him when he perched on the arm of the sofa.

“Hey,” he mumbled, blinking awake, “where’d you go?” Stiles held his beer up in response and Danny yawned, sitting up enough so that Stiles could slide back underneath him before settling down again, the picture of comfort. Stiles sat and tried not to panic, extremely conscious of the fact that the guy he’d just had the angriest sexual encounter with in his life was sitting three feet away and he hadn’t even thought to clean himself up before he came back.

Fuck he was supposed to be spending the night with Danny. Danny who he still needed to have a frank and open discussion with about what, exactly was going on with them. Maybe he should just say he was tired and reschedule for another night, preferably when there wasn’t a huge glowing bite mark on the side of his neck screaming I JUST HAD SEXY TIMES WITH DEREK IN THE KITCHEN. But if he didn’t sleep in Danny’s room tonight that meant sleeping in his room with Derek. And nope- no that was absolutely not happening. Stiles was the king of ignoring problems until they went away and that’s what he was gonna do.

He sat and waited for the film to finish, completely tense and having taken in absolutely none of it, practically springing to his feet as soon as the credits rolled and throwing an apology to Danny for knocking him aside as he grabbed at Lydia’s arm, pulling her out of the house with a hurried “Really need to talk to you about some translation issues I’m having.” He completely ignored her complaints as he marched her halfway down the street, shoulders tense and throwing paranoid glances over his shoulder.

“Stiles!” She snapped, breaking free of his grasp and stopping him in his tracks, he turned wildly to face her “What the hell is going on?”. He stood still for a moment, completely lost for words with how to phrase what was going through his mind. Finally, he settled for pulling down his collar which made Lydia actually gasp as she meant in to get a closer look.

“What-“

“Me and Derek kind of just had sex in the kitchen and I’m really on the verge of freaking out Lyds” he interrupted hurriedly. Her eyes turned to saucers, at a complete loss for words for once. “I’m supposed to be hooking up with Danny later but now I’ve got this whole thing happening on my neck and I really don’t want to deal with the whole issue so I can’t stay in my room and-“

“No problem, you can stay over.” Lydia interrupted and Stiles let out a breath of relief he hadn’t realised he was holding, “but mainly because I really want to have a discussion about how the hell that even happened. Was it good?”

Stiles groaned, letting his head fall to her shoulder in despair.

“It was good” he muttered. 


	4. Spaghetti and forgetti your troubles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles decide to bury the hatchet. They can be civil right?  
> They’re not unreasonable...

Stiles sent a message to Danny, letting him know that Lydia needed his help with an emergency and that he’d reschedule (and make up for it) as soon as possible and turned his phone off for the night. Lydia cracked out a bottle of wine and led him up to her room.

“Right so we need to sort out some details here,” she said as she poured them each a generous glass, “as far as I was aware you and Derek really did not get on”

“We don’t.” Was Stiles’ blunt response, he took a heavy gulp of wine, shaking his head at the stupidity of it all.

“I can see that.” Lydia said, eyeing the mark on Stiles’ neck, “and you and Danny?”

“Casual, friends with benefits kind of thing” Stiles said, taking another gulp, “or at least that’s what I thought, Scott and Isaac told me I needed to have a proper discussion with him. Which is now not a possibility until my neck stops looking like a crime scene.” Lydia nodded slowly.

“So you and Derek just- what went angrily at it in the kitchen halfway through the film? How did that even happen?” Stiles closed his eyes and moaned.

“I don’t even know, one minute we were arguing with each other and then the next I had my back up against the fridge and he was grinding his dick against me. And I wasn’t complaining. I mean, I genuinely hate the guy-“ his words cut off as the door swung open behind Lydia. Jackson rushed into the room, eyes landing on Stiles with a look of pure glee.

“I knew it!” He hissed, ignoring Lydia’s startled objections to his sudden appearance.

“Jackson close the door you asshole”

“I knew it, as soon as you came back in that damn jumper- it was already too hot in that room, there’s no way you’d wear a jumper unless you had nothing to hide” his eyes landed on the bruising on Stiles’ neck “did the dude try to eat you alive? What the hell” Lydia whacked him across the legs and he finally followed her orders to shut the door behind him, he even managed to look a tiny bit sheepish about the whole thing. Stiles was sat with his face in his hands, the thought of the frat knowing about this filled him with a crippling feeling of embarrassment.

“Oh god” he muttered “What the hell did I do?”

“Oh great you’ve sent him right back into crisis mode Jackson, well done.” She shoved the glass back into Stiles’ hands and filled it with more wine, “drink that and ignore Jackson, he’s not going to tell anyone and they wouldn’t believe it if he did.” Jackson looked irritated at that but still shot an apologetic look towards Stiles.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise you were having a whole crisis thing.” He muttered, sinking to join them on the floor of the room. “I take it this is a kind of recent thing?” Stiles laughed in a terrifying bark in response to that, still sipping at the wine Lydia had so heavy handedly sloshed into his glass.

“You could say that”

“They hooked up for the first time today, I don’t think either of them were really expecting it” Lydia supplied when it seemed that Stiles wasn’t going to press the matter and further and Stiles snorted in response. Jackson let out a low whistle, eyebrows climbing up his forehead.

“Shit,” he said “I kinda assumed that you two had already, you know-“ He mimed something lewd with his hands but stopped almost immediately at the twin looks of horror on his companions faces. He scratched at the back of his neck. “I could never figure out why you two hated each other so much, I just figured it was a bad break up kind of thing. The pranks got really bad after you and Danny started, you know- wait what’s happening with the whole Danny situation?”

Stiles felt like screaming, that was the last thing he wanted to talk about right now, “the pranks got worse because we moved in together not because of any weird sexual tension thing Jackson. And I really don’t fucking know, I just don’t know what’s going on with anything and I’ve got no idea how to deal with that.” He felt water well up in his eyes, the frustration finally getting to him. Jackson was looking at him with something that was akin to pity which really didn’t help matters. If Jackson was feeling sorry for him then he was in real trouble here. Lydia just pursed her lips.

“We’ll get drunk, find some heavy duty concealer and deal with the Danny situation as and when it occurs okay? He’s a good guy, you don’t need to be scared about that going downhill. As for the Derek situation…” she paused as Stiles tensed, “maybe you’ll have got the whole thing out of your system? Stay here tonight and by tomorrow you’ll be back to covering each other with super glue and driving everyone else insane, okay?”

Neither Stiles or Jackson looked convinced, but they nodded dutifully along anyway.

Stiles’ sleep was fitful, his dreams a compilation of hot breath and biting kisses. He woke up several times- disoriented and frustratedly turned on. By the time he made it to his class the next day he was completely exhausted and fed up. Lydia had attacked his neck with about fifteen different products and it still didn’t look great. He was wearing a high necked jumper (acquired from Jackson by way of an apology at Lydia’s demand) and with the mild hangover he was nursing he felt completely sweaty and disgusting. He didn’t blame the people who took one look at him, head in hands and headed to the other side of the lecture theatre.

The lecture seemed to be going on for hours and Stiles tried to check the time underneath the desk, realising that his phone was still turned off. He revived it and then nearly dropped it as it started buzzing frantically with his missed messages.

Scott: Dude what happened? You ran out of here with Lydia like a maniac.

Danny: No problems, hope Lydia’s okay I’ll catch up with you tomorrow x

Scott: Also Derek looks like he’s gonna start murdering people- Did u do something to piss him off again

Scott: Danny’s gonna throw u out of the frat if u don’t stop pulling pranks

Scott: Ur not allowed to get thrown out

Derek: We need to talk.

Stiles’ heart stopped when he saw that last message. Talking to Derek was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. He would genuinely rather strip naked in this class and sing the elements song than talk through whatever issues the two of them clearly had.

His fingers were texting out a response before his mind had caught up with them.

Stiles: Fuck off.

The response from Derek was almost instantaneous.

Derek: You’re a child.

Stiles rolled his eyes, shutting his phone back down again and glaring angrily at his notebook (completely devoid of any notes relevant to the lecture he was sat in). The class was supposed to be two hours long but there was a break halfway through, so that people could use the rest room or grab a coffee. Stiles took advantage of the time to slip out and head back to the house. He wasn’t going to get any work done at this rate so he might as well do that from the comfort of his bed. Besides, Derek had classes all day on a Thursday, something Stiles had taken full advantage of on a number of occasions, the most memorable of which being the time that he had hidden all of Derek’s underwear around the house. Watching him trudge through the rooms, collecting boxers as he went, like the worlds most underwhelming scavenger hunt had kept Stiles laughing for weeks.

He clambered into his bed. If he had a two hour nap now, he could grab his laptop and head to the library to catch up on all the work he missed without bumping into Derek. Then all he had to do was stay out of the house until Derek went to sleep (10 o’clock every night, like a psychopath) and sneak back in.

Minimal contact. It was perfectly achievable.

That thought was still lingering in the back of his mind when he found himself being shaken awake by the very man he was going to such lengths to avoid all of 6 hours later. He couldn’t help but feel somewhat betrayed by his sleeping pattern.

Derek stared down at him, unimpressed. “So,” He said, watching as Stiles scrambled into a sitting position in the bed, blanket pulled high around him, “The kitchen.” Stiles stared stubbornly up at him, unwilling to enter into the discussion. Derek raised an eyebrow, starting to lose his patience. “You’re actually just going to not say anything? I haven’t had a moment of silence around you for the entire two years you’ve been punishing me with your presence and now you’ve decided to go mute?”

“Exactly.” Stiles responded and Derek threw his hands up in frustration.

“Look,” He said, “what happened, happened. I don’t know where it came from or why but we’ve got to be able to move past it. I can’t keep spending all of my time waiting for you to launch a new attack.” He sat down on his own bed, looking deeply uncomfortable. Stiles felt the same, this was the most civil he’d ever been in a conversation with Derek. “This is as good a place as any to call a truce.” Derek continued and Stiles eyed him warily.

“A truce?” Derek nodded his head slightly, buoyed by the fact that Stiles hadn’t immediately dismissed the idea.

“No more pranks, no more active hostility. I don’t cause you trouble and you don’t cause me trouble” Stiles stared at him for a long second, weighing up his options. If creating a truce with Derek meant that he didn’t spend another day panicking about how to hide an angry hate sex hickey from the entire world then it was well worth it. Slowly he nodded his head and Derek let out a sigh of relief. They stayed sat for a moment, neither entirely sure what to do. Derek picked at a loose thread in his comforter.

“Dinner should be ready in a few minutes.” He offered and stiles looked surprised, finally realising quite how long he’d been asleep for. He got to his feet and shucked Jackson’s jumper, searching for a sweatshirt absently through his drawers. He spotted it and turned, victoriously pulling it part way over his head before realising that Derek was staring at him, wide eyed. Stiles swallowed and pulled the jumper down, noting the way that Derek’s eyes clung to the side of his neck. He stood, moving closer to inspect the bruise.

“Fuck,” he whispered “I didn’t even think.” Stiles tried not to let his twinge of annoyance show, it would do no good to immediately nullify the truce by throwing insults at the man. He rolled his eyes instead.

“Right.” He muttered, “Ill have to wear a scarf indoors, like a douchebag.” He headed to the hooks on the wall where they hung coats and outerwear and could swear he heard Derek huff out a breath of amusement.

“Isaac wears scarves all the time.” Was the light response he heard over his shoulder as he furiously wrapped a scarf around his neck, careful to completely cover the disaster zone. Stiles snorted.

“My point exactly.”

He didn’t wait for a response and instead headed down the stairs, already anticipating the complete earful Isaac was going to give him as soon as he saw the scarf. The house dinners weren’t a daily occurrence, people normally just wandered into the kitchen and scavenged whatever they could find. Scott had managed to survive for about three weeks off supermarket branded ramen alone. This revelation had almost been enough to bring tears to Danny’s well adjusted, healthy balanced meal fed eyes. So he implemented the fortnightly dinners. One person was in charge of cooking something healthy and everyone had to sit and eat it together. No complaining.

Scott was supposed to be cooking this week so the no complaining rule was about to be pushed to its limit.

Dinner was an awkward affair, in all honesty. In his efforts to avoid sitting next to Danny or Derek Stiles practically dove across the room to claim a seat between Jackson and Boyd, both of whom looked bewildered. He was quiet too, which was hardly the norm. To date, he and Derek had had a minimum of two arguments at every dinner since they started, and on one occasion a physical fight (Stiles had been in charge of cooking and had made him something extra special). Tonight, however the two of them wouldn’t even make eye contact. The other boys sat shuffling and exchanging glances, unsure what to make of this new development. It was almost more unsettling that they weren’t fighting than when they were. Danny looked completely confused by Stiles’ behaviour, stiles shot him an apologetic glance, trying to convey that he’d explain later. Though what exactly he was going to say was beyond him.

He choked down Scott’s attempt at spaghetti Bolognese, desperately trying to avoid eating any of the sauce, which tasted somehow minty, as he did so. A quick glance around the room showed him that he was not the only one. Danny was soldiering through for the sake of Scott’s feelings but even Scott had started mindlessly twirling the pasta round his fork rather than eating it. He sighed heavily,

“Sorry about the food.” He offered, the resulting glares he received making him look somehow more sheepish than before. “In my defence,” he said “I did try desperately to convince Danny it was a better idea for literally anyone else to cook.”

Danny raised an eyebrow and took a deliberately large bite, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said, a grimace crossing his face as he bit into what he was pretty sure was an entire clove of garlic. “It’s perfectly nice.”

No one was convinced.

Scott tapped at the table impatiently with his fingertips. “I bought a few bottles of wine,” he offered, “I figured they might make the food seem like less of a disaster.” This was met with considerable interest and, sending that he might have made it out of the dog house, Scott skipped out to retrieve them from the fridge. Isaac helped him pour generous glasses for everyone and finally, as people officially abandoned the food, the night started to pick up. Even Danny stopped trying to convince Scott that he actually quite liked the food. Stiles sidled up behind him on his way to the toilet.

“Please tell me you’ve learnt a lesson about letting Scott cook this time” he whispered into his ear, laughing when the other boy jumped, having not noticed Stiles stand up to leave in the first place. Danny looked petulant.

“He won’t learn if we don’t let him cook.” He said, but there was no conviction in the statement. Stiles raised his eyebrow.

“You smell like garlic.” He said and Danny threw his head back and laughed.

Stiles liked Danny like this, he didn’t often drink- too busy with running the frat and keeping up with his schoolwork to deal with hangovers. But when he did he was always light and happy, somehow becoming even more charming than he was naturally. Stiles ruffled his hair affectionately.

“I’m gonna go pee.” He announced and Danny pouted, leaning into his hand.

“You up early tomorrow?” He asked, puppy dog eyes melting Stiles’ heart just the tiniest bit. He shook his head and Danny grinned “excellent. We’ve got some catching up to do if my memory serves me right.” Stiles, riding on the buzz of the wine and the charm of Danny’s smile found himself nodding in agreement before he could think twice about why it might not be the best of ideas.

He peed quickly before returning to fling himself into the argument currently raving over the table about who in the house was the most likely to be arrested.

“There’s just absolutely no way Stiles is going to get arrested.” Scott was yelling in Jackson’s general direction, “His dad’s the sheriff back home, they’d never be able to catch him he knows all their tricks”

“Or,” Jackson shot back, surprisingly drunk considering how little he had actually had to drink (though he’d taken one bite of the food and point blank refused the rest so maybe it wasn’t so surprising) “he’d get too cocky and think he can get away with it”

“Pfft if anyone’s going to be arrested it’s Mr Psychopath Hale” Stiles found himself saying, without thought. Danny slapped his head into his hands with a groan whilst Scott snorted. Derek was glaring at Stiles and he shrunk a little in response. “If you think that helps your case for not appearing to be terrifying then you’re wrong” he shot at him. Derek ground his teeth together.

“I think Danny’s the one who’ll get arrested” Boyd interrupted the silence, thankfully turning the attention away from the pair. Derek continued to glare. “If you think about it, it makes sense” Boyd continued, ignoring the indignant noises from the other dinner guests at the notion that Danny could do something illegal.

Stiles piped down for the rest of the discussion, withering under Derek’s glare. He felt slightly guilty, they had literally only just made a pact to be civil with one another. But Derek was being far too tetchy about the whole thing, it was a joke for God’s sake.

As things started to wind down Stiles helped move the dishes into the kitchen (and the spaghetti into the trash) and then stood yawning. Danny put his hand on the small of Stiles’ back, tilting his head in the direction of his bedroom and Stiles nodded sleepily. Before they could move, Stiles felt something collide with his back and whipped around to see Derek, holding several empty glasses, offer him an innocent look.

“Sorry.” He said, his voice sounding anything but. “Didn’t see you there. “

Stiles narrowed his eyes at the other man and then turned around huffily. He grabbed Danny’s hand and marched off towards the bedroom. 


	5. A glare can express a lot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finally talks to Danny about their relationship and Derek starts to take real notice of it himself.

Stiles watched as Danny leisurely changed into a comfy looking pyjama set, laughing as he stumbled trying to poke his leg into the trousers, the effects of the wine having not quite worn off yet. Stiles stripped off his own clothes to his boxers, not really one for pyjama sets and was just contemplating stealing Danny’s toothbrush when he saw the other boy looking at him appraisingly.

“Nice hickey.” He said, eyebrows quirking upwards and Stiles felt his blood chill. One hand lifted unconsciously to scratch at the mark in question, unsure of what to do and Danny just rolled his eyes. “I’m not mad Stiles don’t start looking like you’re gonna run. We aren’t in a relationship, I hardly expected you to stay celibate whenever we weren’t together.” Stiles let out a shocked huff of breath, taken aback by this news. Danny waited for him to say something, looking completely calm.

“I- I really had meant to say something, before all this happened” he gestured vaguely towards his neck, “I know we don’t really have similar relationship styles and I really was going to try and get us on the same page with everything-“ his words dried out as Danny started laughing, not maliciously, but definitely with an air of someone that knew something and was just waiting for the other person to figure it out.

“Stiles you’re a one true love kind of guy, I am fully aware of that. You’re going to keep diving in and out of relationships until suddenly you meet someone and realise that they’re the only person for you. I reconciled myself with the fact that that was not me a while ago”, his smile was rueful and Stiles was torn between confusion and guilt.

“And you’re okay with- with this not being a one true love hunk kind of thing?” He asked.

“Stiles I’m not stupid. I knew what I was getting myself into the moment you started eye humping me across the pool last year. You’re one of my best friends and we can have fun for as long as it’s fun, if I meet someone or if you start dating someone, then it’s off and we can still hang out. It’s not all or nothing, I wouldn’t want that.” Stiles realised he was beaming in his relief, throwing himself across the room to tackle the other boy in a bear like hug. Danny laughed, falling backwards onto the bed and taking Stiles with him.

Stiles kissed his friend joyfully, peppering his face with little butterfly kisses until Danny was batting him away with his palms. Stiles leant back, legs either side of the other boy and Danny stared up at him speculatively.

“So…” He said, his fingers tracing circles on Stiles’ hips where they held him in place, “now that we know no-ones desperately in love with anyone, may I ask who the hell tried to take a chunk of flesh out of your neck?” The expression on his face indicated that he wasn’t expecting an answer and so he was completely unsurprised when Stiles started nipping his jaw in an effort to avoid giving him one. He chuckled, “I see.”

Stiles licked at his ear lobe, teeth scraping ever so slightly, revelling in the slight hitch of breath he received in response.

“How about,” he offered, a dangerous glint in his eye, “instead of discussing things that really don’t matter all too much,” Danny raised an eyebrow, “instead of doing that, how about I make you match?”

The wry look was replaced with an expression of low hunger and Stiles took that as his cue to start sucking at the skin on his neck, his hand rubbing against the hardening outline in Danny’s pants.

“That could work,” Danny managed to pant out, shucking his pyjama bottoms and arching up into Stiles’ touch.

Stiles and Danny got a host of funny looks the next morning as the frat eyed their necks. Stiles tried not to make a comment about how much worse the inside of Danny’s thigh looked just to see their reactions. Jackson for some reason looked completely elated and chose to stay seated at the kitchen counter, even after he’d finished his breakfast, staring eagerly at the two rumpled looking boys. Stiles was about to ask him what, exactly he was finding so amusing when Jackson’s eyes lit up even more. Stiles followed his eye-line, turning just in time to catch sight of Derek shuffling in through the kitchen door.

Stiles shot a glare at Jackson. The other boy just ignored him, unashamedly watching the drama unfold.

Danny, who had also noticed Jackson’s ridiculous behaviour, got a shrewd look on his face. He leaned into Stiles, an interaction that might look to the untrained eye like something intimate and sweet, but it was only to whisper “I cannot close my legs without mild discomfort. You’ve turned me into a manspreader.” Stiles snorted involuntarily at that and Danny leant back, his eyes flickering towards Derek who was watching the exchange with a stony expression. Looking the picture of innocence, Danny lightly placed his hand on the back of Stiles’ neck, letting the boy lean into it as he sipped happily at his coffee, flicking through a few pages of notes for his exam.

They all jumped at the sound of the cupboard door slamming shut behind them. Derek strode out of the room and back upstairs.

“Geez I wonder what’s wrong with him today.” Stiles muttered. Danny said nothing, smugly rubbing circles against Stiles’ skin and exchanging a loaded look with Jackson.

After that, it seemed to become a recurring theme. Danny would rest a hand on Stiles’ leg, or sit close enough for their shoulders to rub, or play with his hair as he did his work. Stiles wasn’t too bothered by it, now he’d finally cleared the air with Danny his fears of leading the other boy on had subsided. He was just a tactile guy, and to be honest So was Stiles so he enjoyed the closeness. Someone who definitely did not enjoy the new, cuddly aspect of their friendship however, was Derek.

Stiles could physically feel him glaring whenever they’d cuddle up on a sofa or in the kitchen. They’d settled into a new routine based around complete avoidance of each other, Derek would wake up early and go for a run before stiles woke up, Stiles would trudge down to breakfast while he was out. Derek would go to bed earlier than Stiles, while the other boy would hang out downstairs for as long as possible. That was probably the worst part because Jackson tended to stay up late and got more and more irritating as the evening went on. But there were times that the two boys couldn’t avoid eachother- movie nights were a house tradition and increasingly they’d had to attend planning meetings for the upcoming party (Stiles had suggested a funny hat theme and was immediately shot down).

Things were generally tense. They weren’t outright fighting but Derek was glaring and Stiles was desperately looking anywhere but at the homicidal eyebrows across the room. Scott had joked to him that he wasn’t actually sure if he preferred this uncomfortable environment to the incessant pranking they’d become so accustomed to- Stiles’ reminder of the glitter shampoo incident was enough to remind him of the horrors of days past.

The one who kicked everything off again in the end was actually Derek. It was the third movie night since their weird kitchen incident, and they were all settling down to watch Monsters University- each week someone new got to pick the film and Scott was an absolute child at heart. Stiles and Danny had nabbed the sofa at the back of the room and were lounging loftily as the others trailed in. Danny watched the procession of boys, lightly tracing patterns against The back of Stiles’ neck. Derek was one of the last into the room. He glared around at the very little space available, with a free space on the floor next to Greenberg his only viable option. His eyes landed on the sofa next to him, eyes zeroing in on Danny’s hand.

Stiles saw the decision in his eyes and had only had time to widen his own in surprise when Derek hefted himself in between the two boys on the sofa, grabbing at a beer from the table. Both Danny and Stiles were shoved sideways in the movement and Danny withdrew his arm looking, for lack of a better word, amused.

Stiles, however was not amused.

He was not at all amused.

“Hey-“ he began to complain but was cut off by a shushing noise from Derek.

“Movies about to start, shush.”

Stiles was too flabbergasted to speak and Danny was absolutely no help, his shoulders heaving with uncontrolled mirth. The younger boy opened and closed his mouth like a fish, thrown by this behaviour. Derek had made no effort to speak to him for weeks, had just sat glaring and pouting and all of a sudden this. There was nothing on this planet that made Stiles more uneasy than seeing Derek amused and the smug bastard was practically radiating with it at this moment in time. Stiles was squashed into the corner of the sofa, his right side plastered against the man next to him- who was determinedly pretending to watch the film.

It might have been childish, but Stiles never claimed to be above acting like a child, and the only thing that he could think to do in revenge without being told off by the room at large was to pinch the man. Quickly, and with surprising force, he pinched at the skin of Derek’s thigh, satisfied at the sharp breath he heard in response. This time it was his turn to pretend to watch the film, feeling a little more satisfied for the childish act.

He felt an elbow slowly inching into his side and swung his head around to glare at Derek who had completely foregone the ruse of watching the film. Stiles flicked at his ear petulantly and Derek responded with a small shove. Danny glanced over at the two of them and they immediately stilled, the picture of innocence. His raised eyebrow was evidence enough that they weren’t convincing and they settled back down. Stiles grabbed a beer of his own, sipping intermittently in the hope that it would keep his hands busy (though the image of giving Derek a quick sharp slap was ever more tempting by the second).

They lasted for about forty minutes, each had drunk their beer and were sat staring blankly at the screen in front of them. If you’d asked either what was happening they wouldn’t have been able to say. Stiles had been fully concentrated on the feeling of Derek’s leg against his and trying to find a way to stop himself from physically shoving the man away from him. The brush of their legs shot little static like shocks into his skin, it made him itch and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. They were too close, it was too warm- he was literally counting down the seconds left in the film.

Derek’s foot deliberately, and firmly pressed down on his. Neither of them were wearing shoes, both lounging around the house in ridiculous bed socks. Stiles had adopted storm trooper ones where Derek’s were plain black (but still very fluffy). Stiles tried not to react to the provocation, could practically feel a vein in his neck protruding from the effort. Carefully, he leant forwards to grab a bag of chips from the table, reaching down to pull sharply at Derek’s leg hair. Derek removed his foot in his shock and Stiles kicked his own up onto the table. Derek was glaring. He snatched the back of snacks out of Stiles’ hands and returned to his previous state of ignoring him.

Stiles was absolutely seething. There was about fifteen minutes left of the film and he spent the entire time growing more and more tense, with every crunch he heard from beside him, his muscles would draw just that tiny bit tighter. The film finally finished and be shot to his feet, grabbing Derek by the collar of his pyjama top and yelling a quick “Goodnight all!” he went hurtling up the stairs. He didn’t speak until they reached their room, slamming the door shut behind them and shoving Derek up against it.

“What the hell was that about Hale? Have you decided it’s more worthwhile ruining my life than it is staying in this frat?” Derek glared back at him, refusing to say anything and Stiles let out a frustrated noise, releasing his hold on Derek to tug at his hair. He locked eyes with the other boy, who was still leaning against the door, expression unreadable. “I don’t know what you want from me.” Stiles said, almost desperately, “I’m going to end up punching you if you keep acting like a ch-“

He was cut off as Derek dragged him towards where he leant against the door, slotting their mouths together roughly. Stiles gasped as Derek handled his ass roughly and Derek took the opportunity to lick into his mouth, hands squeezing tightly. He bit sharply at Stiles’ bottom lip and, breathing heavily moved away from the kiss to growl “I don’t know either.” Stiles gaped at him. He felt his temper flare inside of him- he was not going to be some kind of outlet for Derek’s mixed up emotions whenever the other man felt like it.

“Right I get it,” he spat, pushing closely into Derek, his face just an inch or two away from his own “I am not playing this game with you, you’re really starting to piss me off”

Derek glowered back at him, “Oh trust me, words cannot describe how much you’ve been pissing me off lately pal” Stiles felt his hands bunch into the material of Derek’s top at his words, a hiss escaping his teeth.

“I hate you.” He said plainly, watching as Derek’s eyes dropped to his lips at the words.

“The feeling’s mutual.” The words had barely left Derek’s mouth before Stiles felt himself diving forward for another bruising kiss. He felt completely overwhelmed by it all, the electric feeling of Derek’s skin against his filling him with this heated anger. He wanted to bite and claw at the other man, to tear his clothes away and leave marks.

Derek seemed to have the exact same thought, he bit at Stiles’ neck harshly, tugging the boy’s lounge pants down sharply as he did so. Stiles groaned, the pain making him arch his back, blood rushing downwards. He dug his nails into Derek’s waist as he shoved his top upwards, Derek moved back only to shirk the top quickly, Stiles followed suit, gasping as the movement of his shoulder twinged the raw skin on his neck. Derek pushed him backwards and Stiles felt his knees buckle, falling backwards onto his bed. He stared up at the other boy, now in just his underwear and breathing heavily.

“What are we doing?” Stiles asked and Derek just shrugged, grabbing roughly at Stiles’ thighs and dragging him to the edge of the bed. Stiles let himself be manhandled, his question forgotten as Derek bit lightly at his hipbone causing Stiles to arch upwards again with a moan. Derek rolled him over, knocking the wind out of Stiles’ lungs in the process, and pressed himself flush against his ass, his hard cock straining against the thin layers of fabric separating them. He leant in close, breath tickling against Stiles’ ear as he ground against him. Stiles moaned loudly at the friction this caused for his cock, trapped under him and rubbing against the mattress torturously.

“I like you like this,” Derek muttered, grabbing at the other boy’s hips harshly with one hand while the other one tangled in his hair in a stinging hold, “not so fucking sarcastic like this are you?” Stiles had never been so hard in his life, his hand scrabbled around Derek’s wrist, holding it in a tight grip as he pressed back against the other man. He’d give anything to have the little clothing they had left gone but he still had his dignity, he wasn’t going to beg, especially not to Derek fucking Hale. He could practically hear his grin behind him as he nipped at his earlobe and Stiles couldn’t tamper down the moan that escaped from him. Derek’s hand moved from his hip, lying flat against his stomach and lifting the other boy slightly so his back was arched. “Like a bitch in heat.” He murmured and Stiles felt a hot spike of anger shoot through him.

“Fuck you,” he spat, snapping his head out of Derek’s grip to look him in the eyes, entirely unprepared for the hungry look he was met with.

“If you want” was Derek’s response and Stiles felt his jaw fall open in his shock. Derek took the opportunity to trace a thumb against his bottom lip, pressing it into the other boy’s mouth. Stiles felt stunned, the bubbling heat low in his stomach clouding his head. All he could think about was the hard outline of Derek’s cock against him and the salty taste of sweat and skin in his mouth. Derek cocked his head to the side, “is that what you want Stiles?” He asked this time and Stiles felt himself nod, just the once, because he did want this, they could deal with the fallout later.

Derek was away from him in a second, striding across the room to rifle through his drawers for his lube. Stiles rolled back onto his back, taking the moment to catch his breath and startling at the harsh red mark on his hip bone. It should hardly have been a surprise after the murder scene that was his neck last time. Derek liked to mark his prey. Suddenly he was back and tugging at Stiles’ underwear with a gruff “off.” His own underwear went down to his ankles and he stepped out of them as Stiles gawped at his dick, it was thick and flushed red, Stiles was just about to take a moment to comment on the fact that even Derek’s dick looked angry when the other man lost his patience, grabbing at Stiles’ pants and tugging them off with a frustrated noise.

Stiles rolled onto his knees, allowing Derek easier access to his hole and felt the bed dip behind him. He startled slightly at the feeling of fingers, but soon let loose a moan as they were plunged inside of him, lube easing the way, as Derek roughly opened him up. There was no finesse to it, he wanted Stiles prepped as soon as possible so it was rough strokes and gasps, Stiles rocking into the almost painful ache as he slipped in a third finger with a sick satisfaction.

“S’ enough” he gasped, hard as a rock and desperate for something more from the other man, “fuck me. Now.” Derek pulled his fingers out, leaving Stiles whimpering at the loss and paused.

“You sure?” He asked, voice gruff. Stiles practically sobbed, completely desperate by this point and honestly on the brink of begging.

“Yes” he choked out, “please” the word cracked as it came out of his mouth and that seemed to kick Derek back into action. His large, calloused hands gripped Stiles’ hips tightly, fingers digging in at a bruising pressure and Stiles felt him line up with his hole, the heat driving him absolutely insane. He arched his back that little bit more and cried out as Derek suddenly slid in to the base in one smooth movement. He barely had a moment to adjust to the fullness of it before Derek was jackhammering back out and in again, and then again, pounding into Stiles so hard that the other boy yelped at each thrust, mind so far from sense that the thought that he should keep quiet was far out of his mind.

Derek seemed to be in a similar headspace, his voice muttering out curse words as he fucked Stiles with every ounce of anger he had in him. He shifted Stiles’ leg slightly, opening him up wider and nearly came on the spot when Stiles moaned in a way that could only be described as pornographic.

“Yes, right there” stiles sounded broken, his voice muffled as he shoved his face into the comforter, the feeling of Derek’s dick against his prostate too much to handle. Derek drove his hips forward again and Stiles almost sobbed with the feeling, he could feel a tightening in his gut, knew he couldn’t last much longer like this, and Derek hit that same spot again and he was coming, blinding white pleasure engulfing him. He could hear Derek groan behind him at the clenching of his hole and felt him tip over the edge just as Stiles was starting to come down from his high.

They didn’t move, not even for Derek to pull out. They just lay there panting as the reality of what had just happened sunk in fully for them. Derek slowly moved out of Stiles and got up, shakily to his feet and Stiles turned to face him gingerly. They were wearing matching expressions of horror.

“Fuck.” Derek whispered and for once, Stiles actually agreed with him. 


End file.
